


Peaceful where you are

by switchfault



Series: NaNoWriMo 2015 one-shots [3]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/switchfault/pseuds/switchfault
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taekwoon is gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peaceful where you are

Sanghyuk can't sleep.

The darkness encroaches on him, drifts into all nooks and crannies until every corner seems like a portal to another dimension. It's oppressive instead of comforting, near painful in the way it hangs around him, the air so still that it feels like a solid wall. The lack of light seems to cause a lack of everything else as well; sounds drown out, sensations become dull, oxygen feels fleeting and not enough.

Sanghyuk gives up, flees from his bed and into the living room. Paces in circles on the floor before curling up on the couch, trying to find comfort. Searching for a peace that is far too elusive. It's been escaping him for weeks, haunting him with its absence. 

They tell him he should be over it by now. 

"It wasn't your fault," Hakyeon says, voice hoarse and weak from too many tears. He doesn't blame Sanghyuk, doesn't blame anyone. Just grieves quietly, on his own, locked away from the others. Everyone pretend they don't see his red-rimmed eyes. 

"We have to keep going," Wonshik says, rolling his shoulders as if expecting a fight. He's still angry, pissed off at the world, taking it out on the closet doors and the walls of the dorm. There are marks from his fists and his knuckles are bruised and sore. It's probably a good a way of dealing as any. It probably counts as keeping on going.

"He wouldn't have wanted this," Jaehwan says, face in a perpetual frown over how Sanghyuk hardly eats, hardly speaks, hardly does anything. To most people, it would seem like Jaehwan's coping well. They don't hear him crying in the bathroom in the early morning hours, quiet sobs drifting through the locked door and adding to the guilt.

Hongbin doesn't say anything. It should be a relief, but that's hard to take as well. He's constantly pale, as if he hasn't seen sunlight for weeks. In quiet moments, and there are a lot of them, he will sit beside Sanghyuk, simply breathing. Existing. Being alive. It's better than the alternative. Isn't it?

They tell him he should be over it by now, but the truth is that none of them are. 

 

 

Sanghyuk can't sleep.

At night, they all go to bed in the same room. Together, but alone. 

One bed stays empty.

It's what chases him back outside, forces him to go around in circles because he can't find a way forwards and there's no way back. No possibility of changing anything. No taking it back. Nothing he can do about any of it. 

"I wish you were here," Sanghyuk whispers to the empty space where Taekwoon should be. He sits out on the balcony, cross-legged on the floor with his back against the rough wall. It's cold, but he doesn't care. It could be freezing, and he still wouldn't care. None of it matters. All that matters is that he's sitting here alone. Taekwoon isn't sitting next to him, letting Sanghyuk lean against him and listening while Sanghyuk talks. There's no warm presence beside him, warm and steady and always there, no matter what.

This is all wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.

Sanghyuk rubs at his aching eyes. He doesn't cry, like the rest of them. He can't. As if something's stuck inside him, frozen, turned to stone. It's the same with everything else, too. Food tastes like cardboard. Music hurts his ears. Having people around him grates on his nerves. Words are the worst. Talking never used to be a problem, but now. Now everything is different, and the only times he can find words are when he's alone, in the stillness of night, pretending that Taekwoon can hear him.

He wraps his arms around himself, and comes back to the same words, time and time again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." It's a mantra by now, a quiet plea that never gets an answer.

 

 

Sanghyuk can't sleep.

At first it's because of the dreams. Flashes of red and black and bright lights. Screeches of tires and the sound of metal grinding against metal. Sirens and car horns and people shouting. Fractures in a window spreading out like spiderwebs. Shattered glass, twisted metal, acrid smoke, teeth scattered on the ground. And Taekwoon, Taekwoon, _Taekwoon_.

After a while, he can't sleep because he's scared. The memories are bad enough, but in his dreams, everything becomes twisted. Worse than reality, when he didn't think that would even be possible. There's no escaping in dreams. At least he can push his memories away, force them into a corner of his mind and refuse to look at them. As long as he keeps busy, he can keep moving. Keep on keeping on. Never let his guard down.

So Sanghyuk can't sleep, can't close his eyes long enough to make it happen, can't relax.

But he needs to sleep. Needs to find Taekwoon again. Needs to make amends. 

It takes weeks to make it happen. Weeks where he doesn't sleep and hardly eats, but oh, how he pretends. Forces empty words out of his mouth and smiles for the people around him. He's good at going through the motions. All the while, Taekwoon's shadow is there, just out of reach, waiting for him. 

The nights have become less dark by the time Sanghyuk is ready. It isn't a difficult choice to make. It's not a choice at all. By the time the rattling bottle is empty, he's already tired. Numb. Ready.

He closes his eyes, and Taekwoon is there, welcoming him with a slight smile and an outstretched hand.

 

 

Sanghyuk sleeps.


End file.
